


Morning Star

by CrimsonShades



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Cuddling, F/M, Female MC because I'm a basic bitch, Fluff, Me projecting my sleeplessness, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:46:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23221948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonShades/pseuds/CrimsonShades
Summary: "What's wrong? Having trouble falling asleep?"Spicing up your quarantine with some fluff because we deserve nice things in these trying times.Inspired mostly by things Lucifer tells me as my Homescreen, especially when I dare open the game at 4 am.
Relationships: Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Lucifer/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 41
Kudos: 683





	Morning Star

**Author's Note:**

> The joke is, I'm writing this in the middle of the night, inspired by the things Luci tells me when I open the game during my insomnia-fueled spells because my brain hates me.
> 
> Shoutout to Pyro, whose only goal in life is to run Lucifer out of his room and take it for herself, which is valid.  
> Shoutout to Tobi, also, for being an inspiration and overall amazing. Not sure about his stance on occupying Luci's room tho.

It was a combination of your own thoughts racing beneath your cranium and the Devildom moon shining through your window and basking all the unfamiliarities of the room in a light that was cold and warm at the same time, that kept you up.  
Shadows somehow stretched taller and longer than they did during the reddish dusk hours of the day and you sat in the middle of them all. Your body was ready to embrace the pleasant haze and turn in for the day, but your mind was far from ready to rest. There were too many things to consider. Upcoming exams, not being killed, your seven brand-new roommates, whether being whisked away to spend a year in a far-off land technically counted as kidnapping. Important things.  
Familiar enough with the feeling to know that the onset of sleep would be a little ways to go and figuring that just lying in bed and watching the shadows very slowly move across the ceiling was ultimately kind of boring, you decided to slip out of bed and subsequently your room and go for a little walk.  
You wouldn't leave the House of Lamentation, obviously. It has been made abundantly clear to you that wandering the Devildom without purpose and all by yourself is pretty much a death sentence and you'd like to avoid that for the time being. And since you couldn't just wake one of the seven to escort you, probably, no, definitely probably not, you'd just take a relaxing walk around the house. It was still large enough to get lost in.  
So you tried to avoid creaky floorboards, felt soft carpet under your bare feet, enjoyed the fact that for as old as the house looked to be, the insulation was still pretty nice. Putting your hand on a window told you that it was a chilly night out, the cold glass drawing goosebumps from your skin. But it's nice in here. You can walk around, your night gown fluttering around your legs and only be bothered by the very occasional draft. With your eyes having grown used to the dark and since you have approximate knowledge of how most of these rooms and corridors look in the twilight of this realm, you can find your way around and not knock into anything. Sure, it may not be ideal to marvel at the paintings on the wall, but there are other things to appreciate.  
Like the quiet. The way the air hangs heavy over you, like a dark blanket, muffling all superfluous sounds. The smell of carpet and wood.  
You avoid that one stair that always creaks on your way down. It really is kind of alien to walk these halls so empty. The dining hall, the kitchen, the library. There isn't even a fire burning. Immediately, the room feels colder. If you didn't sort of know your way around here, this could be a prime horror movie moment. All you'd need is someone to grab you from behind and-  
"Still up, are you? How very naughty of you."  
You can't help but jump, reasonably sure you let out a little shriek and when you swivel around, you assume one of those ridiculously over-the-top karate stances for a whole three seconds before you can make out the slightly-darker-grey silhouette of Lucifer against the also-very-dark-grey background.  
It's less his shady figure that lets you recognize him though, but rather the voice. It just took you a few seconds to process that. Even when you realize you're in no immediate danger, save perhaps getting lectured for wandering the house during unholy times such as this, you can still feel your heart banging against your ribcage from within, like it's the drummer of a band and never thought it decent to inform you of its new hobby. There's a heat in your face when you hear him chuckle and it makes you desperately hope that demons don't come pre-equipped with night vision.  
"I mean, I-", you try to peel some words out of your brain, but it has chosen this very moment to leave you on your own. "You're still up, too", you manage, after an embarrassing amount of time. It's quite frankly surprising he hasn't interrupted you or just walked off in the meantime. Or maybe he just likes watching you squirm and struggle with a coherent sentence. You wouldn't put it beyond him.

"I had some work to finish up on and then I heard you on your little walk and wondered what that's all about."  
"Hm." You avert your eyes and look at your feet. Ah, yes. The floor here is also shrouded in darkness. Very interesting.  
He doesn't _sound_ mad though.  
"What's the matter? Having trouble falling asleep?"  
You turn to look at him, until you remember that you can't actually see him all that well. The light down here is not enough to discern his expression, so you have to go by his voice alone.  
"I guess", you finally admit with a shrug. "I figured a walk would help."  
"And, is it working?"  
You shrug your shoulders and make an indistinguished noise. Not really. There's not an ounce of that heavy-limbed tiredness you're looking for. The kind that allows you to slip right in, bury all your thoughts and crush you into the realm of dreams.  
"You did startle me."  
"Oh, did I? My apologies." Lucifer sounds far too amused again. "But it's hardly my fault when you walk around here lost in thought. You know how dangerous that can be."  
"I'm not even leaving the house unsupervised", you defend yourself.  
"I suppose you did not. Good job on following the most basic of orders then."  
You huff. Still. 'How very naughty of you'? Not sure how you feel about getting kink shamed for being insomnious. You try to look him up and down, but he's still hardly more than a slightly darker blob against the backdrop of the library. Squint. Still no improvement in the light department.  
All that annoyance is washed away thought when you realize something.  
"I'm sorry you were so busy that you had to stay up so late too."  
He's quiet for a moment and you genuinely wish you could see his expression. Or just his face in general.  
"Guess we're both night owls now!"  
You can see him tilt his head and immediately wonder if you went too far just now.  
"I have a suggestion." Without even seeing it, you know his eyes are boring into your skull. "Let's share the bed."  
"What."  
Now it's your turn to look at him funny.  
"Perhaps that could help you rest easy. My room gets very little moonlight compared to yours and I'm reasonably sure my bed is more comfortable."  
_That is not the point_ , you want to yell, reasonably sure that you wouldn't be able to sleep at all with him right next to you. The thought alone makes your heart start up its next award winning drum solo.  
Then again. How many times are you going to get an offer such as this? And if you're insomnious, it might still be more fun being sleepless in that admittedly comfortable-looking bed of his than walking around the halls, which you can also do in your waking hours.  
"Okay, sure", you cede then and hope your voice didn't waver.  
He makes a noise that may or may not have been one of those under-his-breath laughs and leads the way. Since you can see his outline and also just straight up know where his room is, getting there is relatively easy.  
Lucifer holds the door open for you.  
"Thank you." You slip past him. It is darker than your lunarly illuminated room, but still brighter than the library. You can see the smile on his face, for one.  
"Not at all. I'm merely doing what I can to make your stay here as pleasant as possible and ensure the success of the exchange program."  
Yeah, that's not how you remember some of those things going by, but bygones.  
You feel a bit stupid just standing there, between the door and the luxurious bed - seriously, why did yours have to be so small. Lucifer closes the door and the small noise feels incredibly loud for a second, before the silky silence swallows it.  
"Feel free to get into bed and make yourself comfortable. I'll be right with you."  
Well, the sound of that doesn't make your head feel hot and heavy at all. You nod, dumbly and slide under the covers. They're cool, but heavy. Almost as heavy as the question weighing on your mind: What the hell are you supposed to do now?  
Did he genuinely just invite you over to sleep? Is he going to fuck you? Should you ask? Is there something you should do? When you turn your head, you realize that he's left into a side room off this one and just fidget a bit.  
You always assumed he was one of the smarter ones of the seven, but is he really that dumb? Just inviting you over to his room to sleep? Or are you being the dumb one here? The naive little girl, helpless in the bed of a literal demon. It's difficult to read him on a good day, but in the dark of the night when you can barely see his face? For the moment, you just stick to the very edge of his, admittedly, very comfortably bed and try to ban your heart from instrument practice. This is getting ridiculous. He wouldn't have mentioned you being but an exchange student if he was going to try and put the moves on you, probably. Still, if there were strings attached to his invitation and he's expecting something of you now, you're majorly fucked. You can feel the weight of hypothetical implications pressing you further down into the pillows.  
Would you say no if he came out and asked you to, right now? Probably not.  
How could you?  
After all, it would be a lie to say that you hadn't spent some of your previous sleepless nights thinking about this exact thing. You just had never expected it to happen, especially not like this.  
Your face is probably glowing in the dark now and you're realizing that it's exactly this kind of relentless pondering that's costing you your well-earned rest. There's some comfort in knowing that the next day is a Saturday and you don't have anywhere to be.  
Just when you're reasonably sure the gears in your head are going to crush your brain, Lucifer leaves the little room. He's dressed, so there's a relief. At the same time, there's something inside of you curling up in disappointment.  
It takes you a few seconds of blinking against the few silvery rays of light to discern that he changed out of his usual "casual" attire - putting casual in huge mental air quotes here, he still looks like a butler - into a pair of dark pajamas. Definitely more loose, probably more comfortable, you can see an expanse of his bare chest, glistening in the moonlight and immediately will your heart to stop beating entirely for an entire minute.  
He gives you the slightest smile and gets into bed on the opposite side of you.  
And he stays there. Comfortably curled up in silky blanket. Almost enviable to look at in its comfort.  
"Well, have a good night."  
"You too", you stutter and decide that this is a relief. Not having to put out unexpectedly. Ignoring the beast of disappointment that has your spine in its crushing grip, you curl up on your side of the bed and take a few deep breaths. Your heart is still a thing that's happening and you can't help but hope that he can't actually hear it. The sound definitely seems to echo through your entire body. But your back is turned to him and his back is turned to you, as you discover with one sneaky peek over your shoulder and there's an entire continent of king sized bed in between your bodies. The only warmth you feel is your own and his breath is too far away for you to hear.  
With all that in mind, you are granted the mercy of sleep, at last.

Something is different.  
Not that this isn't your bed, you do have a faint recollection of wandering the halls and being startled out of your mind by Lucifer and him taking you to his. You recognize the fancy smell in the air and the silky softness of his blankets against your cheek. What's new is how warm it suddenly is. It was definitely cooler when you got in here.  
You feel around for the edge of the bed, which should be literally right there as you were pretty much clinging to it for the majority of the night, but your arms just swipe over more bedsheets. The texture is amazing against your fingers, which are still only in the process of booting up.  
There's a coldness to the horror seeping into your system as you realize that you must have moved and the lump of heat right behind you must be Lucifer. Fortunately, the unpleasant feeling is immediately drowned out by more warmth. The body behind yours is just generating it, like the sun.  
You carefully peek over your shoulder and yes, there he is. Lucifer's body is pressed right behind yours. You're nestled together like spoons, fitting like you were made to lie in his arms, pressed against his chest. Feeling the reverberations of his heartbeat against your skin. He's still asleep, even though the sky is turning from night blue to a sort of dawn-purple. It'll skip straight through all the sunny hours and remain on looming reddish sunset sky for the remainder of the day.  
It's easier to look at his face in this light, the peaceful expression on it. The strands of black hair framing it that sort of turn into a soft silver near the tips. His lips are near your neck and you can feel every exhale, every soft little puff of air on your skin. Most importantly however, his arms are wrapped around your waist and the edge of the bed is a far ways from him as well.  
So you met in the middle.  
Perhaps both seeking some warmth.  
The thought makes you smile.  
You close your eyes and focus on the sensation of his body so close to yours. The way you can feel your heartbeats synchronizing, your breaths.  
His hands are on your stomach and sometimes, one of his fingers twitches against you. He's warm and his pajamas are soft and comfortable against you and it's frankly a miracle that he doesn't just slip out of bed with all that silk on silk action.  
The seconds melt and time becomes an illusion. You're not sure how long you've been enjoying the feeling of warmth and proximity and comfort and absolutely no expectations for, but you have absorbed the feeling of Lucifer against you into your very bones, your body glowing with a friendly orange light. It's less of a fluttering sensation and more of a smaller sun in the pit of you, steadily radiating this bright feeling into your system.  
Finally, his breathing changes. You can tell, you've been listening to it for what feels like hours. His grip tightens and he pulls you closer against him. There's a few moments where he no doubt recollects his consciousness, tries to remember what happened and, instead of pulling away or making excuses, he just keeps holding you. Nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, which takes your breath away.  
His fingers have started tracing shapes into the fabric of your gown. The sun inside you has started to bubble and it feels like you're going to overflow.  
"Good morning", you finally whisper, not being able to help yourself as much as you are unable to fight the large smile that has climbed on top of your features and refuses to be shaken off. You turn your head to be able to look at him when he does pull away and blink slowly. Maybe he wasn't as awake as you thought.  
Lucifer takes a surprising amount of time to regain his bearings. His lips make several attempts at forming words, before he abandons them.  
"Good morning", he finally murmurs, in that raspy freshly-awakened voice. Sleep-drunkenly slurring on some of the vowels. Something about how vulnerable it is makes your heart jump. Then he yawns in a way that is so utterly un-Lucifer that it makes you want to pinch yourself to make sure it's not just a dream. "Excuse me. I'm afraid I'm not a morning demon." Immediately, he sinks back against you, like that alone took too much out of him for his current state of awakeness.  
Sure, you noticed that he's usually quiet over breakfast, sort of leering into his pitch black coffee instead of making much conversation, but frankly, you always chalked that up to him being a busy guy and potentially mulling over his to-do list for the next day. Not something as flawed, as vulnerable as simply not being a morning person. Or, well, demon. It's a crack in that veneer of perfectionism he always works so hard to maintain and yet here he is, carelessly divulging that kind of information to you, while you're cozied up in his arms.  
You snuggle against him in turn, turning around so you can face him. Run a hand through his bedhead only to find that he still looks pretty. He'd probably look pretty regardless of what you did with his hair. As is, he could just turn straight around and participate in a pajamas photoshoot.  
Majolish would be licking their fingers to get this sort of image.  
But you much prefer to keep sleepy, quiet, just-happy-to-snuggle-you-and-be-vulnerable Lucifer to yourself.  
He likes having you gently run a hand through his hair. That's not the morning sun on his face, his cheeks are definitely flushing.  
Your heart takes a little snapshot of this moment and you put it away in the back of your mind to cherish forever.  
Your hands trail down to cup his face, gently swipe your thumbs over his cheekbones and press your forehead against his. Just to see how far he's willing to let you go.  
One of his hands comes up to take yours, but instead of pulling you away, he just pressed soft kisses to your knuckles for a while before going "This is nice." His voice sounds significantly more awake now, but still much more gentle than what you're used to.  
"I agree", you whisper back and press a soft kiss to his forehead. Oops. Got carried away.  
He cracks an eye open and smiles at you. No smirk. None of that hooded-eyes-I'm-gonna-punish-you stuff. No trace of that haughty bullshit. No. A genuine, melt-your-insides smile.  
You keep patting his cheek a bit and watch him absolutely melt against you like you're somehow a person who is good at this kind of stuff. Preposterous.  
He does briefly look in the direction of a clock mounted on a wall - a really weird mixture of elegant and skeletal design, you realize - but before he can fully pull away from you, you remind him that it's a Saturday. A long breath leaves him and with it, all the air inside of his body. Deflated, he falls on top of you and after a few seconds of brief shuffling around on both sides, so he doesn't crush you and you can keep petting his face, after a few seconds of giving you an almost pleading look, he presses his lips against yours and you let the feeling wash over you.  
So he kisses you and you kiss him and since neither of you have anywhere to be, you just stay like this. And you figure that it's not so bad to have him here, when his walls aren't up yet and he doesn't have the energy to pretend that he's too proud to care.  
In a way, he does shine the brightest in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Ladies and gentlement, after many tests in the lab, we have finally achieved it. The softest Lucifer.
> 
> Now give me the Lucifer's Lover card, Solmare, it's literally the only thing I want in my life.
> 
> Also, add me under 1904625093, if you want <3


End file.
